


No One's Father

by unfolded73



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Gen, Mental Health Issues, Parent-Child Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-13
Updated: 2018-04-13
Packaged: 2019-04-22 13:19:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14309523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unfolded73/pseuds/unfolded73
Summary: Rogers is happier since he took Tilly home with him, and he doesn't know why.





	No One's Father

The familiar voice carried over the din of conversation at the bar. “Another scotch, please, Roni. And also a club soda with lime.” 

She glanced over at Rumpelstiltskin as she finished filling a beer from one of the taps and nodded. Thunking the beer down on the bar in front of a customer, Regina set about preparing the requested drinks. It hadn’t escaped her notice when the two detectives had come into the bar with two uniformed police officers, seemingly for no other reason than an after-work drink. She couldn’t decide which was more unusual, the fact that they were there at all together, or the fact that Detective Rogers was currently laughing at something one of the officers had said, a huge grin lighting up his face. 

Setting the drinks on the bar, she indicated Hook with a subtle tilt of her head. “He seems happy.”

Rumple turned and glanced at his partner before looking back at Regina. “He’s got Tilly off the street and staying at his place.” 

Regina raised her eyebrows at that. “Wait, he’s not…”

Rumple shook his head. “Sound asleep as ever. If it’s occurred to him how much happier he is since he took her in, he has no idea of the real reason why.”

“So how?”

His lips quirked up in a half-smile. “You of all people know that curses can’t stop those who truly love each other from finding their way back together.” He glanced at Hook again. “But I have to admit, it’s rather inspiring to watch.”

“Has it melted even your cold, dark heart?”

With a chuckle, he picked up the glasses from the bar. “Impossible.”

Regina lowered her voice. “And the pills?”

“All the more important for Tilly to remain asleep, don’t you think?” he said softly, almost too low for her to hear. “Unless you’ve found a cure?”

With a frustrated shake of her head, Regina held a finger up to another customer trying to get her attention. “Believe me, you’ll be among the first to hear if we can find a cure for a poisoned heart.”

As if on cue, the door to the bar opened and Henry came in. He spotted Regina and smiled, his hand popping up in a wave.

“See?” Rumple said as he started to turn back to his table. “Love finds a way. It’s why those who employ dark curses will ultimately never prevail.”

“Detective Weaver, are you giving me a hope speech?” Regina said.

His perpetual smirk made another appearance. “Doesn’t sound like me, does it?” 

~*~

Rogers reached for his jacket. “I’d best be getting home.”

Sergeant Jenkins looked up from his beer. “So soon, Eagle Scout? Is it time to alphabetize your soup cans already?”

The other cop who’d accompanied them on this little outing -- Liang, his name was -- gave Jenkins a sneer. “Come on, Jenkins, that’s not even a good burn.” He turned to Rogers. “Thanks for taking us out for a beer, man; I appreciate it.”

“Well, it was the least we could do given the help you gave us today,” Rogers said, surprised by this small kindness from a coworker. He finished pulling his coat on and reached for his wallet, intent on leaving some cash on the table, even though his club soda had no doubt been free.

“I’ve got it, Rogers,” Weaver said, waving away his attempt to pay. “Have a good night.”

Nodding his thanks, Rogers smiled and raised his hand to the group. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He caught Roni’s eye on his way past the bar, and she gave him a warm smile. It felt good, having friends; friends were something he’d had too little of in his life. It made him feel like a colorblind man suddenly granted the ability to discern vibrant colors, this recent discovery of what it felt like to have people around him who cared. 

Rogers had lost his mother so young that he barely remembered her, and his father had been a drunk and a petty thief, leaving him and his brother to fend for themselves when they were young boys. After his father disappeared, Rogers bounced from one foster home to another, but his memory of that time was hazy. Even losing his brother was difficult for him to remember. He supposed grief could do that, burying trauma deep so that it wasn’t keenly felt.

He did remember enrolling in the police academy, though, and how he’d hoped that by becoming a police officer, he could begin to honor his brother’s memory. Every late night or early morning on the job, every appointment with his physical therapist after his accident, when he felt like giving up on learning to use his prosthetic hand, it was only the thought of his brother that pulled him through. At least, until the Eloise Gardener case hit his desk.

It used to awaken him at all hours of the night, this nagging sense that there was a girl out there, lost and alone, that only he could rescue. He even formed a mental image of her, and now that he’d faced down the real Eloise Gardener, it shamed him to remember that image. A blonde girl with shining eyes, dressed in a pale blue dress and a white pinafore, like something out of a storybook. In truth, Eloise Gardener couldn’t have been farther from that idealized fantasy his brain had cooked up. It was no wonder that finding her hadn’t stopped the sleepless nights, and that nagging feeling that there was a girl he needed to save.

Rogers approached his apartment door, reaching for his key ring from the pocket of his jeans. He could hear the thump of the bass-line of some kind of music coming from inside, and he smiled. 

Opening the door revealed the music, if it could be called that, to be some kind of odd rap style, the likes of which he’d never heard before. Tilly looked up from the sofa where she’d been reading a book, and rushed to grab her new phone and shut the music off.

“What on earth was that?” he asked as he closed the door and took off his jacket.

“Swedish hip-hop,” she said. “Sorry.”

“No need to apologize,” he said. “Just keep it down to a dull roar so that the neighbors don’t complain. Have you eaten?”

Tilly nodded. “I had some beignets at work, and then I had a bowl of cereal for dinner.”

“Not exactly a balanced diet,” he commented, looking over toward the kitchen. Tilly’s cereal bowl and spoon were in evidence, as was most of a half-gallon on milk sitting out on the table.

“You left the milk out again,” he said, picking the container up and whisking it into the refrigerator. He’d have to start buying milk by the gallon, the way she was going through it. He mentally added it to the list of things he needed to pick up at the market the next day.

He expected at most a distracted apology from the girl, same as he received the last time she left a milk jug sitting out on the table. What he got instead was a sort of high pitched keening sound, and it made Rogers look around in alarm.

Tilly had dropped her book on the floor, and as he watched with no small amount of horror, she knocked her fist against her forehead a few times. “Stupid, stupid, stupid,” she muttered.

“Tilly, stop,” Rogers said, rushing over to the sofa and gently pulling on her arm to stop her from hitting herself in the head. “It’s not a big deal, I promise. Please don’t do that.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to,” she said mournfully. “I forgot about the milk.”

“Tilly, I promise, I’m not angry with you.” He started to put his arm around her in what he intended to be a comforting gesture, but he held himself in check. The last thing he wanted was to make her feel unsafe in his home, and he knew the burden was on him to make certain she never thought for a moment that he had any lascivious intentions toward her. In truth, even the thought made his stomach turn over in revulsion. 

“You’re too nice to me, Detective. I don’t deserve anyone being this nice to me.”

“Nonsense, everyone deserves kindness.” He nudged her shoulder gently with his own. “Most especially you.”

She met his gaze, seeming to be searching for something in his eyes. “Why are you letting me stay here?” she asked.

“Because you needed a safe place to sleep,” he answered automatically, but he knew as soon as he said it that he needed to go a step further if he was going to reassure her. “Because helping you makes me feel more at peace that I have in…” He chuckled softly. “I don’t know, maybe ever. I know that sounds odd, but it’s true.”

“It doesn’t sound odd.” She leaned back against the sofa cushions, staring up at the ceiling. Rogers watched her, waiting for her to speak again.

“Back when I was in school, I used to try so hard to be a good student. The kind of student that teachers would smile at, you know? I would tell myself, ‘pay attention, Tilly, pay attention.’ But then I’d realize that the whole class period had gone by and I hadn’t heard a single word. And then I’d get up to go to change classes and leave my backpack sitting next to my chair. I’d walk into the next class with no book, no papers, no pencil. The other kids would laugh at me for being so stupid. Or they’d laugh at my dirty clothes. Or at the fact that I didn’t have money for lunch.”

“You were an orphan?” he asked. He’d never asked about her parents, and she easily could have been a runaway, or one of the many kids who get kicked out of their house because of their sexual orientation, but somehow he knew neither of those things were true.

Tilly nodded. “Never knew my parents.” Then she smiled sheepishly. “Well, I never knew my mum. My papa used to come to me in dreams.” She shrugged. “I know how that sounds, but I don’t know. I think maybe… maybe he died when I was little? And maybe his spirit used to watch over me.”

Rogers smiled sadly, thinking of his brother. “Maybe.” 

“Anyway, the point is, my brain has always been a little funny. It floats around and decides to go places without my permission, and so I forget things. And I think the pills make it worse.”

With a glance over at the counter where Tilly’s pill bottle sat, Rogers struggled for what to say. He knew Detective Weaver had been ensuring that Tilly stayed on her medication long before he got involved, but now that she was living with him, it was falling to Rogers to remind the girl to take a pill every night before she went to bed. He wasn’t entirely clear on what kind of mental health issues the medication was treating, but the last time she’d gone off her medication, she’d shot Weaver, so he didn’t doubt their importance.

“I know the side effects may be troublesome, but it’s still important that you take your pills.”

Tilly’s face crumpled. “I hate that I need them.”

“There’s no shame in needing medication. You wouldn’t fault a diabetic for needing insulin, would you?”

“Yeah, that’s what people always say,” she grumbled.

“Perhaps because it’s true.”

With a watery giggle, Tilly wiped at the tears that were threatening to leak out of her eyes. 

“Have you seen Margot-with-a-T again?” he asked, hoping to move her to a happier topic of conversation, but Tilly shook her head sadly.

“I thought she might come by the food truck since she knows that’s where I work, but she hasn’t.” She sniffled. “I guess maybe she’s not interested, you know… that way.”

“So you aren’t interested in the fact that I learned where you can find her?” he asked.

Tilly grabbed his arm hard enough to hurt, her blue eyes wide as saucers. “What do you mean? Where can I find her?”

He grinned at her excitement. “I just so happened to learn that Margot’s mother Kelly works with Roni at the bar. And Margot has been helping out there too.”

Squealing, Tilly leaped to her feet. “So maybe if I go down there now I can catch her?”

“Maybe.” She was already halfway out the door. “Put on a jacket,” he admonished, barely resisting the urge to add, _and be home at a reasonable hour!_ He shook his head at his own foolishness, treating this girl like he was her father. Rogers was no one’s father, and likely never would be.

Tilly dutifully pulled her jacket on when he handed it to her. “See you later!” she called as she ran down the hall of the apartment building, not even bothering to pull the door closed behind her.

With a rueful smile, Rogers watched her go, a pang in his chest that he couldn’t quite explain. No more than he could explain the fact that he waited up for her that night, making certain she was safe in her room before he went to bed. No more than he could explain how this lost girl’s happiness seemed so inexorably tied to his own. No more than he could explain why the nightmares that had plagued him since those first days on the Eloise Gardener case were finally and mercifully gone.


End file.
